Walking Dead 1. Jus' Me an' You

**Hey guys, Char here. I found this in my notebook here, and I decided to share it with you. I hope you like it, criticism is always welcomed.**

**Walking Dead belongs to AMC and Kirkman.**

**EDIT: 7/22/13- I decided to go over this chapter again, hoping to make it more exciting for you guys. I noticed it lacked in the details and the emotions I want to portray with the Dixon brothers. So I hope you enjoy the edit.**

Merle always thought his momma was pretty. Even with all of her bruises covering her, she was still pretty in a way of a survivor. She had bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair framing her face, and a smile that could brighten everyone's day; she was the kindest lady anyone could ever meet. So however momma ended up with Pa was a mystery to him. She said that she was waiting for him to wake up and be how he used to be before the drugs and alcohol. Merle could vaguely remember those times, as his Pa lost his job when he was around two years old; that was when he started going to the bar every night, blowing the money that they had. It started as a once and a while occasion, and he was never hitting on momma or himself. Though as time went on, Pa was gone more, and when he was there, him and momma were fighting, and she always wore bruises after. He started hitting Merle a couple years ago, and to this very day he still didn't understand what he did wrong. Pa was always mad, and when Earl was mad, someone had to pay.

He sat on the small chair in the living room, watching T.V. Momma told him to turn up the volume as loud as he could, and she'll come put him to bed when she was able to. Soft steps were echoing in his ears as he turned around, already knowing who it was. Momma smiled, and walked towards him. New bruises littered her face, and he was getting ready to cry. Pa didn't like when anybody cried, saying that crying was for the weak ones. Though momma cried a lot, and she wasn't weak. Hell, most women wouldn't put up with Pa, but she always would. She kept saying that she could calm the man, keep control of the beast within him.

"Oh Merle," she whispered, smoothing his hair, "Please don't end up like your Pa later in life," she whispered repeatedly into Merle's ear, hoping for it to somehow sink in and for him to remember not to do such things.

"Ma?" Merle asked, looking at her, "Why do you stay with Pa? He don't treat ya any good. I can tell that."

Tears were pelting Merle's face as she was smiling, trying to hide the pain. Merle always knew though. She could never hide her feelings from him, "For two reasons honestly. I'm hoping that he will become the man he once was. You remember you Pa from back then, don't you?" Merle nodded slightly, "That's the man I want raising my two boys."

"Two boys momma?"

She smiled, taking his hand and placing it on her stomache, "Right inside here is your baby brother. You have to protect him, ya know that right?"

Merle nodded and his momma smiled. She took his hand and lead him to his room. Merle never liked where his room was; it was right across the hall from momma and Pa. When Merle climbed into bed, he felt her pull the covers up to his chin with a slight smile. He waited patiently for the bedtime story that never came. He watched as his momma walked away, her hand clenching the knob, as though she had something to say.

"Learn how to treat a lady. Give her the respect, love, and kindness she deserves. Never lay a hand on her, no matter how mad she makes you. You should love her and treat her like she's the queen of your world, not the shit that lies on the side of the road. Never forget that Merle."

Merle always thought his momma was pretty. Even though her body was littered with bruises and scars, she was still pretty to him. He could hear as Pa and his momma started raising their voices as it echoed through the thin walls. It was always about the same thing; money. Other times it would be of Pa apologizing to momma, taking her hand in his and playing the sweet game known as temptation. She would always fall for it, going back to him and not even a week later the cycle continues once more. He almost couldn't stand it. One of these days, he was gonna walk into his house and find his momma laying on the living room floor dead.

Though, in any moment he would trade his momma that he was slowly gaining through the past nine months. She was growing colder, smoking and drinking more than she ever did. She always sat on that porch, keeping her hands busy as though that was the only thing she could do. Pa was turning momma cold; to the point that she didn't notice him anymore. Her smiles were slowly fading, and he could always find her sitting on the back porch inhaling her Virginia Slims. It was one of the very few time Merle could say she was almost peaceful. Even at 8 months pregnant, he could watch her down a pack of Slims before noon. Merle started worrying about his brother, but his momma didn't seem to have any concerns as she smoked pack after pack day after day. It hit Merle hard when she no longer said I love you.

Merle hadn't seen his momma this happy in months. With Pa always hitting them, knocking them down an' telling them they're worthless, there was no such thing as happiness in their home. There was no time to relax, to sit by the fire place that is only used during the winter months. But today, Momma looked happy. She was holdin' his new baby brother in her arms. Merle felt a twinge of jealousy run through him. Did Ma ever hold him like that when he was a baby? Probably not, Momma never loved him. Hell, he bets that she wished he were dead off in the forest somewhere. Always faked her love towards him. He dismissed the though as quickly as it had come; he was never the one to dwindle, always cut your losses and go.

"Come 'ere boy," Merle heard his Ma call. She never called him Merle much anymore; or not what he could remember. It was as though he was there, known as something that came out of her and was to be her bitch. Merle ain't no one's bitch; especially someone in his family. He fought the urge to spit on her.

Merle walked up to his Momma's bed side. Right now, he was able to get a close up look of his brother. His face was red and scrunched together. His arms and legs were going everywhere. His cries that were earlier high-pitched screams still echoed around the room, as though forever etched into the white walls. Soon enough, his brother would know that even those quiet sounds would set Pa off.

His mother handed him the baby, "This is Daryl, Merle. Yu already made your mark here. You're gonna be jus' like your daddy; rude, mean, sick and twsted," She glared at him for a moment, but her eyes softened when she looked at Daryl, "But he has a chance. He can be somethin', do somethin' wit his life. Make sure he had tha' chance boy. Promise me."

Pa never came to the hospital to pick them up. No matter how many times she called 'im, he never did answer. Finally fed up, she was ready to walk two hours home when one of the staff members asked if they needed a lift. Mere was happy his Ma said yes; he didn't think he could deal with her complaining the whole way back. Merle continued to stare out the window, watching the blur of buildings and trees pass by them. Ma and the man Dale were having a quiet conversation in the front while she was feeding Daryl. He swore that the boy ate not even ten minutes before they left, and yet he was still hungry. Merle didn't think he could ever understand the logic of a baby, and he never wanted to either.

When they arrived, Pa's truck was in the driveway. The lights were on, and he was stting in his chair with a bottle in his hand. Merle wanted to turn around, get back into the car right then. Pa was drinking still, probably got kicked out of the bar before he could have enough in his system to drive home and pass out. As Merle turned around, he already saw the driver almost at the end of the street, heading back to where he lived. He watched as Ma squared her shoulders, trying to stand up straighter, look more intimidating then Pa does. Ma put Daryl in Merle's hands and then marched up the porch and flung the door open. Merle only heard hushed voices, which usually meant nothing good.

"Whatcha mean ya 'ad anotha on'?" Pa yelled at her, grabbing her neckline and pulling her close. Merle felt like the window was the TV, an' he couldn't change the channel. He doesn't like what he sees; never did.

Pa was hitting on Ma again. She was screaming and shouting at him, telling him to stop, to get outta here. But he wasn't stopping. Merle watched as he flung Ma against the wall, knocking down old photographs and having them smash on the ground. As she tried to stand back up by herself, he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her back up. Spit was flying into her face as he started screaming about how useless she was. Why did she bring another child into this world? He was mad and he was drunk. He never wanted Merle even, why would he want Daryl? Ma brought another child into their own hell.

There was no more noise. Merle looked up and saw his Pa in the doorway. He was huffing and glaring at them. Merle was glued to the spot, not knowing what to do. Pa was angry though, and he wasn't finished with Ma, he could tell. He took in a deep breath and shouted; "Git outta here ya worthless piece of shit. Take that baby wit ya!" Merle had no reason to be told twice.

He ran down the road, through the forests and away from all of the houses. Maybe Merle could sneak into the shed down the road, but with a baby, he couldn't climb a fence. He just kept on running though, even though he had no place in mind to be. When he found a big oak tree, he leaned against it, sliding down the wide trunk, feeling the splinters break through his shirt and into his back. Daryl was whimpering, either from the cold or from something else, he wasn't sure.

"Stop cryin' stupid," he whispered, only to get a louder response from him, "Ya want Pa to find us dontcha? Your stupid, I don't know how ya gonna live long," Merle sighed, looking up into the branches, seeing nothing else to do. He remembered what he promised his Ma, but he doesn't know how to do it. He ain't very strong, and he was sure as hell not tall enough to pound Pa in the face. He would be lucky to even git one hit on him right now. But he would try with all of his might, and he would do it somehow.

Daryl started coughing then, and Merle looked down. He saw woman do this in movies, so he gave it a shot. He started tapping him on the back, but the small child only kept coughing. After many minutes, Merle got him to burp, and for some reason it made him smile. He looked at Daryl, noticing his brown hair and his blue-grey eyes that both him and Pa have. He looked at him as his eyes drooped closed, and once sentence that he always seemed to repeat, "Jus' me an' you baby brother."


	2. You Knew

**Hey guys sorry for such the long wait! I've been so busy and everything…but here ya have it! And I do have the second chapter of 'Complicated' in process right now. I've just been having such a hard time figuring out how to write it. But now the words are flowing! So anyways, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Man, this took a lot of heart and soul to write this. But I hope I captured it as much as I thought I did. **

**~Char**

**EDIT: 7/23/13- Second chapter was short and choppy. I decided to try to make it flow better. On the show I felt so many emotions during this that I don't think I gave the same feeling. I'll work on a third chapter soon.**

Merle couldn't believe what happened. First, they went running up to someone that they didn't even know, helped them, and when he tried to take something in return, Daryl pointed his piece of shit bow at him? How dare he! His baby brother needed to learn his place again now that he was with him. Those people were fucking with his mind, making his brother soft. In this world, they couldn't have people that are soft, they die first. Merle wasn't going to let his brother die first, he would rather take his hand of again and again before he ever let that happen.

Merle couldn't take it anymore, "What the hell was that up there? Were you really gonna shoot ya own brother?"

He watched as Daryl whipped around, his finger pointing out at him accusingly, "They had a baby Merle!"

Merle huffed, feeling the anger rise inside of him, "Oh, and your saying that if they didn't have a baby that you would just let them all die huh? Look what them people did to ya after I left; they turned you into a fucking pussy!"

Daryl clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He was used to Merle's behavior. Hell, this was the only Merle he knew when he was around. This persona of Merle was the easiest to handle. But Daryl was different now. He had people he once had taken care of. He left them all though, for a stupid piece of shit who didn't know how to care for anyone but himself. He didn't give a fuck about anyone except Old Merle, and Daryl was the person who knew that well.

He was one taking care of Merle. He was done being his shadow. When he heard the baby on that bridge, the few people who were trying to protect that child, his body reacted on its own accord. He saved the child, like he saved Little-Ass-Kicker. Hell, that child reminded him of Jude. His heart ache at the thought of all of them. He left them all alone with a leader who's gone bat crazy. Carl was growing up faster than he can handle. Then little Judith was trying to get through the day, every day. And Carol, what could he say? He left her, and all he said was be safe.

Daryl was ready to go home, back to the prison. And with Merle nagging and complaining, it was pushing him over the edge. He was tired of Merle calling him a pussy, telling him he had grown to soft.

"You left me on tha' roof to die!"

"We came back fer ya! Bu then ya go an' cut off ya own hand!"

"Look at yerself! Look at what ya become! You went up there an' save people you didn' even know!"

"They had a damn baby Merle!"

Merle started to chuckle then, taking a threatening step while having an evil gleam in his eye, "Do them damn people you call your_ family _know that we was gonna rob 'em blind?" Merle watched as Daryl gave him a glare, "No, I bet they didn'."

"An' it didn't happen!"

"No, 'cuz I wasn't there to help ya!" Merle was panting, these types of hikes took a toll on his body.  
"Yeah, well do you wanna count all the times on who left who?" Daryl knew he hit a sore spot in Merle.

"Ya sayin' my hand got cut off because of that?!"

"Ya cut yer own hand off because yer a stupid minded piece of shit!"

Merle lost it, grabbing Daryl's shirt, "Ya? Ya little piece of-" Merle's sentence was lost after Daryl's shirt ripped down his back.

He saw them all then; thick long scars that were on Daryl's back. Some of them were from Pa's belt, others were from that copper wire with its sharp ends that stuck into the skin, only to be ripped out and repeated until the old man was satisfied. Merle saw Daryl freeze for a few moments before struggling to pull away and hid them once more.

Merle felt the ones on his own back tingle. Each of his scars had stories, ones that he didn't even know since he was either in prison or he was gone. Anger rose inside of him, but not at Daryl, at his Pa. He caused the anger that was inside of both of them to stay there. He never loved them. They were pieces of shit to him and nothing more. He felt the familiar clench at his heart that went out towards his brother, knowing that he failed him.

As soon as Merle released him, he looked down, "I-I didn't know."

"Yeah, yeah ya did," Daryl was shifting the backpack on, "That's why ya left first," He couldn't believe his ears. Merle not knowing? He did know, an' he left his baby brother there, to be in fear, and then gain hope when Merle once again returned, only to be torn down again. It was a vicious cycle.

Merle was at an internal war with himself. He wanted to grab Daryl, tell him how sorry he was that he left. Yet he was stubborn, and Dixons don't admit shit like that. He wanted to go kill something, anything, to take this pain and guilt he was feeling away. He could handle hatred and anger, it was always something that was comforting, but this was too much. Something like this, with his brother, he almost couldn't breathe, like it was suffocating him. His brother's eyes mirrored his own as they had their silent communication, though neither of them could understand what the other one was feeling or thinking at that time.

"I had to man, I woulda killed him otherwise," He saw Daryl starting to walk away, "Hey, where ya goin?"

"Back where I belong."

"But I can't go witcha," Merle said roughly, "Almost killed that black bitch, and look at what I did to that Korean kid."

Daryl looked at him and sighed, "He's Korean."

Merle shook his head then, "Whatever! Doesn't matter man I can't go witcha!"

Daryl shifted on his feet, a nervous habit he had yet to break, "Ya know," He said, pointing his arrow at him, "Even though I'm the one walking away, you're the one leaving. Again," He didn't let Merle have another word as he walked away.

Daryl's emotions were conflicting with one another. The memories of the past once again resurfacing. How his mom was burned alive in his childhood home. How his Pa always hit him, no matter what the circumstance was. How Merle was there for a week, then gone for months at a time. He wanted to hit something, lay down on the ground and just give up. But he had people, his family, most likely hoping for his return. He kept trudging forward, knowing that Merle was following.

Once again he was taking care of Merle. Once again he was going to have to clean up Merle's mess that he had made. Merle caught up to him, the emotions on his face were neutral. He remembered how Merle had said he would have killed Pa if he'd stayed there. He wondered how everything would have changed in their pasts had Merle put a bullet straight through the prick's head. Would they have come out differently? Would Merle have stayed until the police found the old man's body?

When they reached the outskirts of the prison, Daryl shut down his mind and acted purely on instinct. The past was the past. And for right now, he needed to protect his family.

The Dixons were back together once more.


End file.

Walking Dead, Angst